"Valeria! Darling, come sit beside me." Helen called her granddaughter lovingly when she heard steps climbing down the stairs.
Valeria set her sight in the direction the voice came from and through a window saw her grandmother sitting on an indoor swing on the verandah just outside the back of the mansion.
'How did she know it was me? Did she ever turn around?'
She walked out through the sliding transparent door, and like an obedient youngster, took a seat beside Helen.
For a few minutes, the two watched the drizzle pouring outside in silence, the sound of splashing droplets on the face of Earth in the background.
The scene in front of the porch was that of the beautiful back garden, and with the falling drops of rain and breezy wind it became exceedingly enchanting, with Petrichor in the air, the earthy scent produced when rain falls on dry soil, sensitizing their noses.
The slanted roof over the patio didn't let water collect on above and in thin streams, it dripped down.
The atmosphere was pleasant, but there was a stiffness between the grandmother and granddaughter.
Helen cleared her throat before asking, "Did you like your room?"
The young girl, who was still reeling from all that she heard in her father's study, turned slightly startled. "Huh? Oh, yes. It's nice."
Helen beamed, "I'm glad."
Then she added another question, trying to catch her granddaughter off-guard. "How was life at the orphanage? "
Valeria developed doubts regarding this questioning session but complied to see where it will go. "It was fine."
Not now, however.
She missed her friends. They were her family, her companions for the longest time, and it was hard being away from them. They had suffered a lot together and made promises of being happy together.
She wondered how they were doing. 'How is she sleeping? Is he taking care of himself as well instead of only focusing on me and her?'
Helen wondered if this girl would ever speak more than the few words forced from her.
"Define fine." Helen adamantly pursued, making Valeria turn to face the old lady.
"We were fed, clothed, educated, and had a roof to sleep under. Life was good." Her reply was dry.
"Same things, all of which you'll be receiving here and much more. Then why are you so unhappy? Are you not pleased to be with your family?" Helen didn't sound reproachful, but rather amiable.
Valeria nipped her lower lip. Her finger rose to the tip of her nose to scratch it. She let out a sigh, laden with the sorrows of the world.
"Is blood relation necessary to be family?" The way Valeria answered with a question that was on her mind so bluntly required a great deal of effort from her part, and her youthful, perplexed face appeared so full of naïve innocence to Helen that she couldn't hold back an imperceptible chuckle.
"Blood relation is not a criterion for being family. But being related by flesh and blood is also a bond that cannot be ignored so easily. It's a feeble string of connection which is only strengthened by love and loyalty." The way she spoke was so enlightening, and it provoked Valeria to ruminate.
"The mother who nurtures life in her belly for nine months, and then undergoes a painful experience to bring her child into the world, forgets all that suffering when she hears the first cries of that baby. The unreserved love she feels and shows does not outshine the love of that mother who undertakes a child not her own but cares for him like he is with all the same amounts of endearment, if not more.
Why do you think that is?"
Memories she has buried for long struck Valeria hard. Yearning for those affectionate caresses, unfaltering care, and those brief moments of motherly love that made life a little easier, the misery more bearable.
She felt a soft touch on her face wipe away the lone tear that escaped her moistened eyes without her knowing. She had not cried ever since turning seven. Not even once after that day.
Helen got alarmed when she saw Valeria crying, but she didn't let it show.
Indirectly, she lent a shoulder to her reserved granddaughter, who she had understood enough to know that the girl would forcefully clog her overflowing emotions again if she broached the topic.
Still, no more tears followed the first one down the pale cheek.
Acting as nothing happened, she continued. "Family is your personal support system that has no expiry date. Even when there are misunderstandings, anger, sadness, or any issues, the love and care remain strong enough to bring everyone back together. Valeria. " Helen took Valeria's hand and held it with both of hers.
The girl who resented skin contact, surprisingly, didn't pull back her hand and looked straight into her grandma's eyes, letting her spot the crushed girl trapped inside her
self-created walls that were supposed to protect her, not suffocate her within herself.
"Even after having Roxana, upon learning the truth, your father and I searched for you because we were worried. We cared for the girl we never met but knew that she should have been with us. Not suffering for someone else's sins." A heavy glare burned in her gaze. But somehow Valeria knew it was not directed at her. "And after your return why didn't we disown Roxana, who according to the world is an imposter. Not the Beaufort family's flesh and blood. We raised her since she was a baby. She grew up with us, as one of us. A profound connection that is so solid is neither easy to make nor break."
Helen scooted closer and bent to bring her face closer to Valeria's with a mystifying expression as if sharing some covert information and whispered in her ear, " You want to know a secret that few are aware of? I was adopted."
Valeria raised her brows, disbelief entering her twin orbs, wondering if it's true.
"It's true." Helen reiterated. "I was very young when I lost my parents, so I don't remember them well. But, the man who adopted me gave this orphan a dream home. He doted on me, while at the same time he was strict and hard, always pushing me to my limits, helping me reach new heights. He turned me into a capable woman who became successful in achieving what she wanted. You know, it's not false, the mother who nurtures and cherishes becomes greater than the one who gives birth."
Valeria seriously contemplated on the words she heard. It seemed true.
Some mothers who give birth and care for their child more than their lives. While some don't care about the child, they birthed and leave him at the mercy of others.
And then there are those unfortunate ones who either die too early or cannot tend to their children, and then someone else takes care of the baby, nurturing them with the same love and affection.
In both last two cases, it's the one who fills the role of mother for the child, whatever the reason may be, becomes the one the child is most attached to.
Motherhood is a feeling that is not limited to only those women who give birth and their off-springs.
"Now, I know, you are closer to someone else who raised you when we couldn't. Won't you share who they are and where, so we can thank them for taking good care of you?" Helen indirectly prodded her granddaughter to try and get her to open up.
But in vain because the girl closed up like a sea clam.
"Clarisse, the director of the orphanage, was the caretaker and she did a good job." Was the emotionless reply.
"Of course, and we have thanked Clarisse well for giving you a home to live in for the past year. " Valeria looked slightly alarmed but composed herself pretty quickly.
'Of course, she knows that.'
"And I know an infant couldn't have raised herself for fifteen years. Why don't you try to share your past with us? Give us a chance to be part of your future." Helen requested gently without making the girl feel any pressure.
Valeria fixed her gaze on the ground and her mind worked on making sense out from all the mess filled in her head.
In a moment she lifted her head to speak.
" I grew up with my two other friends about whom you should know already. They also didn't have any other family. We lived on the streets in a remote city, far from here. There was a woman who cared for us and her own child by working hard day and night. Her husband found me and brought me to the house. They had one-year-old Farid and a two-year-old son then. Astrid came into the family when she was five, found wandering in a dangerous place all alone. The man was into shady business and wasted all his money on gambling and alcohol."
"Growing a little older, we began helping by doing odd jobs. One day, in a drunken fit, the vile man killed her. Because he had strong connections with the police, we couldn't report him. And because we had witnessed the crime, he wanted to kill us all. So we escaped. Their son helped us run away, but couldn't escape himself."
These were the most lines Valeria had ever spoken. When she gauged her grandmother's reaction, she saw the old lady's eyes moist and a shocked and sympathetic expression on her face.
Helen wrapped her arms around the girl and pulled her in for a hug.
In the warm embrace, Valeria's heart grew heavy for she felt bad for twisting the facts to such a large extent only to keep her past a secret.
Unknown to her, her grandmother was not someone easy to fool.
'I am not a senile old lady yet, my dear.' Helen thought in her mind, 'Your grandmother was not one of the top agents of her time with no warranted foundation.